Change of Plans
by Daydreaming on a Rock
Summary: "This shouldn't be happening! It can't be happening! What the hell caused all this? What about the others?" His breath continued to come rapidly as he clutched the shaking, yet comforting form to his chest, tears dripping from his chin. He didn't want to know what happened to the others, and yet he desperately wanted to know if they were alive or if they had become one of these..


**A/N:** Well, I should seriously be asleep, I suppose. But this idea has been bouncing around my head for a few hours and I had to write it down! Don't worry, I'll update everything else in due time if you think I'm slacking off with any of my other stories! Anyway, this is my first Prince of Tennis fic. Hope it'll be good...

**WARNINGS: **Gore, swearing, OOC-ness, major character deaths, possible yaoi, no lemons. _(So don't say I didn't warn you about anything)_

**Summary: **_"This shouldn't be happening! It can't be happening! What the hell caused all this!? What about the others!?" His breath continued to come rapidly as he clutched the shaking, yet comforting form to his chest, tears dripping from his chin. He didn't want to know what happened to the others, and yet he desperately wanted to know if they were alive or if they had become one of these... Things..._

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Prince of Tennis, only this idea.

**Change of Plans**

**Chapter One: Sorrow Filled Disease **

* * *

_Thwack. Thwack. Thwack._

_The red racquet held tightly in between slightly pale, nimble fingers constantly struck the bouncing, neon green ball against the dirty tan wall of the school building. Sweat dripped down from his hairline, running down an already established salty trail down the side of his face, falling onto the cement beneath his feet. The non-existent breeze ruffled his hair as he spun on a covered heel, the crunching noise sounding from the pebbles grinding against one another beneath his feet as his racquet struck the ball again, bending the white-ish clear strings._

_Thwack. Thwack. Thwack._

_He was in his element, doing what he lived against a tough opponent. The only draw back with this specific one, is that he'd never win. For his opponent was un-breathing, unseeing, unfeeling and cold. Unless, of course, he broke the brick wall, which was very much so impossible, even for his amount of strength. Emerald hair flew into his face, blocking his view of the ball for a split second. Bad timing._

_The rounded, rough and slightly patched ball flew by his ear, flicking his hair and literally making one of those comical _whoosh _sounds.__  
__  
Thump._

_Rolling to a stop just behind him after hitting a tree, the ball looked even worse for wear. Not to mention the suspicious red specks that now covered the ball itself. Odd. His feet crunched and scrapped against the ground again as he turned, hand gripping the end of his racquet loosely._

_He bent over, right hand outstretched. His finger tips just barely touched it when he yanked his hand back, eyes going wide. The ball was warm. And sticky. And _red. _It had somehow mutated, oddly enough. It's normally rounded sides slowly slumped down against the ground thanks to gravity and it now resembled the one page where the ball hits the ground and starts to go back up in a simple hand made animation. Minus the fact that a red and dark greenish liquid was starting to ooze out of it._

_Bile rose in his throat as he snapped himself back into his straight standing position, hand covering his mouth slightly as fear began to overcome him. The racquet fell from his hand and the rim of it struck the ground first. It clattered as the rest of it fell to the cement. A bird screeched out a warning call somewhere near him and a small flock flew out into the sky._

_Thump. Thump. Sksshhhsss. Thump._

_A cold chill ran up his spine, and he swallowed a lump of saliva that had been gather in the back of his throat. He kept his gaze locked on the red, squishy, and probably bloody lump that had once been his most prized tennis ball. His hands balled into fists and shook, slight anger and huge amounts of fear swirling within him._

_Sksshhhsss. Moan._

_His eyes quivered in their sockets, irises moving back and forth as though being shaken. Sweat dripped off the very tip of his nose, falling down onto the brick pathway sides that separated the cement from the grass in front of him. His body and mind both screamed at him to run, to flee. To get far, far away from this place._

_A weight pressed itself onto his shoulder, and the smell of rotten, almost burning flesh and blood filled his senses, almost making him gag. A low gurgle sounded in his right ear followed quickly by a low, blood churning moan. He willed himself to look, head turning to the side ever so slightly so that he could spot what was standing behind him._

_The mass of filthy flesh was the first thing he saw, blackened blood caked onto tan, yet graying skin. The school's tennis club's jersey lay slashed and stuck onto the upper body of the creature, and many of it's vertebrae we're visible to him, yellow and stuck in the air around them, no longer the pearly white they should have been. A mixture of blood, bile and spit hung from the dangling bottom lip, slowly dripping downwards, already a good two feet long. Teeth, either cracked and yellow or black and somewhat gone, were blood coated and twisted into what almost resembled a smile._

_The eyes, dulled and dead, stared at him in a mild hungry frenzy. More correctly, one of the eyes stared at him, while the other lay upon the blackened cheek, rolling from side to side as it swayed on its feet, socket that had originally held it in place ripped open, bone splintered and jutting out like rocks along a cliff bottom. He couldn't move, frozen like a statue, paralyzed with fear._

_A scream bubbled up into his throat when he recognized who it had been at one time. No, no, no, no! His lips parted and his eyes became dilated with horror. The scream tore from his throat as the sharp feeling of teeth raking against the skin of his neck, finger nails digging into his chest, and blood welling from these several new injuries appeared. Horror filled his small body as pain shot through him, hearing the ripping sound of flesh as it tore into his neck, slurping the blood up as he went._

_He was shoved onto the ground suddenly and he could feel his shoulder blade shatter from the force. A single fist connected with his left cheek, sending his head careening into the ground. Blood splattered on the ground around him, from his neck injury and new head injury. His lips stained dark red as his own lifeblood welled up in his throat and mouth, dripping onto his chin. It was beating his chest hard, using it's barely existing nails to their full advantage._

_Stars filled his vision and he could feel any energy he could have had to fight it off somewhat leave him. His ribcage felt as if it would collapse at any moment. He almost wished it would. A howl, filled with mindless hunger and unknown rage sounded above him. _Dear Kami-sama, let this hell end! _The nails dug into the side of his face, scratching out four deep trails into the side of his face._

_A burning sensation came from them but he no longer cared. He felt as if he was becoming detached, unaware of his surroundings. His lungs burned for more oxygen and tears poured down his cheeks. His vision was becoming blurry, white and black specks intermingling with each other. He was barely aware of the fists still pounding away on top of him. His eyelids felt heavy and his hearing dulled, blocking out the creature. Numbness spread throughout his body as everything around him started to get a fuzzy black lining around it. He felt as if he were being pulled through a vortex that was trying to tear him apart._

Cold air filled his lungs as his cat like, golden eyes snapped open. Blinding light filled his vision and he slapped a hand over his eyes, feeling the thin layer of sweat that he was sure covered him completely. A quivering bundle of fur laid next to him on his left side, claws digging into his shirt. His ears picked up the young cat's occasional hiss. He uncovered his eyes and looked at him, sheets having been kicked off him in his sleep. Damn Momoshiro. He had never wanted to watch that stupid zombie movie in the first place.

Karupin's eyes looked with his own, blood staining the front of his face and down his neck, stopping at his shoulders. His eyebrows furrowed at the fact that his beloved companion was covered in blood that may or may not have been his own. "What the...?" confusion filled him as he placed a hand on his head, feeling the warm and stickiness of the blood. Fresh...

His eyes darted to the alarm clock sitting beside him. He hadn't set it before hand, and the hands on it signaled that it was roughly 9:43 in the morning. The house was eerily quite, and it was starting to freak him out. No tolling bell, no perverted laughter, no humming, no crashes, not even the sound of a bird chirping. Odd. His mother and cousin almost always hummed when they prepared breakfast, sometimes beating against a pan or two as they did so. That and his father's perverted laughter as he read those "newspapers" were almost always a common sound. Hell, even Momo-senpai's shouts for him to hurry up were quite normal.

And yet, none of those sounded at all. He sat up, taking his hand off Karupin's head, making him meow. The floor boards creaked as he stood up, eyes darting back and forth. The old man surly would have woken him up if they had been going anywhere in particular. Something was happening, and he had to know what. His hand wrapped around the cold silver handle of the door as he pushed it up, almost slamming into it himself. The floor creaked again as his bare foot hit it, cat like eyes darting back and forth. He bit his lip, trying to calm himself down.

Karupin meowed franticly at him, standing up. "Not now, Karupin..." He mumbled as he shut the door tightly, not wanting him to follow incase something had happened. His bare feet slapped against the wood of the floor as he walked, hand coming to rest on the railing that ran along the medium sized stair case that led to the bottom floor. The cold rail quickly ran through his hand as he practically jumped from one step to another, sometimes clearing five with ease. His feet hit the floor again and he held his breath, trying to hear something. Anything.

A dull sizzling noise reached his ears and he hesitantly let out the breath he didn't know he had been holding. He walked again, towards the kitchen, becoming calmer with every step. "Kaa-san? Nanako-san?" He called out as he rounded a corner, stepping foot into the kitchen.

Nothing really seemed out of the ordinary, besides the fact that no one was there and the food laid burning in the center of one of his mother's good pans. How odd... He walked around the table and towards the oven that was against one of the walls. His hand went to the nob that controlled the heat, and twisted it. It clicked and the red burner instantly went back to being it's normal black slowly. Mmm... It looked like they had been making eggs before leaving it... He turned on his heel, planning to leave the kitchen, but stopped. How had he missed _this!?_

A large blood stain laid on the floor, almost looking as though someone bleeding from every limb had fallen onto the boards, gotten back up, and staggered away. He sucked in a breath, wondering if this was what his ccat had gotten into. Maybe, maybe not. He stepped over the blood splatter and looked around, through the opening on the other side of the kitchen. The trail of blood led out there, into the living room. Specks of blood laid on the corner of the opening, making it appear that whoever had been bleeding had run into it. Maybe someone got hurt and they had rushed to the hospital?

His question was answered however, as he stood in the opening. A dull, wheezing groan sounded from behind him, reminding him eerily of his dream. His back straightened as a dull scrapping noise sounded behind him as well. "Ughghgragh..." He turned his head, and cat like eyes widened as fear shot through him. Only this time, it wasn't a nightmare.

Standing there, still dressed and in her apron, was his mother, Rinko. Blood dripped down the side of her face, coming from a large wound in her skull. He could clearly see the shattered bones and flesh, some of which he believed to be her brain. Gray skin covered her face and dull, unseeing yet powerful eyes glared in his direction. Mouth opened wide, revealing blood stained, yet perfect teeth. Her hand outstretched towards him, coated in blood to the point of which he could even see a single patch of skin on it. She walked with a limp, getting closer with each painfully slow step. A gurgled hiss came from her throat, which was jaggedly torn open near her jugular vein. As if someone had taken a butcher knife and their teeth and tore it open viciously while she was still alive and fighting. A flap of skin waved with each of her steps, coming from the slash in her throat.

Tears burned his eyes as he scrambled backwards when she was close enough to smell the death on her breath, see the blood staining her mouth, and barely feel her fingertips touch the fabric of his shirt, staining a spot red. He turned and crashed hip first into the side of the couch, yelping in pain. His hand went to one of his father's perverted magazines which had been left open on top of the table, which was standing at an awkward angle, like someone had crashed into like he had the couch. The pages wrinkled under his grip and he doubted it would do him any good. His fingers loosened around it and he snatched up the small, brown cup that was filled halfway with scalding green tea.

"Get away!" He shouted, eyes shutting tightly as he threw the cup at his advancing undead mother. It struck her dead on, shattering and causing her to step backwards a step or two. He turned again, tears rolling down his cheeks as his mother groaned out. His eyes snapped open and he ran, knocking over several things as he did so. He had left his racquet by the doorway last night, having played a match with his old man before going to bed. He ran, knowing that it was probably the best weapon option he could reach without going near his mother.

There. The racquet laid as he had left it, propped on the wall by the doorway. However, there was one obstacle in his way. A crouched down mass of blood covered girl sat in front of him, face buried into the side of his father's neck, teeth digging into the flesh over his jugular vein. He stopped dead in his tracks as his father's gaze locked with his own. Blood welled in his lips and dribbled down his chin, fear glazing his eyes over. "Run, Ryoma..." Nanjiro breathed out before his head slowly lulled backwards, all the light fading from his eyes. The thing over top of him unlatched it's teeth from his neck, making him fall to the ground with a dull _thud_.

More tears poured from his eyes when he recognized the thing that was gazing at him with dulled eyes. "Nanako..." He whispered, voice cracking. A thud sounded behind him and he knew his mother was getting closer with each second he stood there. Nanako looked away from him, uninterested before digging her fingers into his father's stomach, tearing the skin and making blood well around her fingers. He darted forward, body moving on it's own. His own fingers latched around the handle of his racquet and he sucked in a deep breath, turning before he slammed into the wall.

He held the racquet tightly and extended his arm, finding himself standing almost directly behind Nanako now. Rinko stood a few yards away. He swung. It connected. And his cousin slumped onto the ground with barely a screech, skull caved in and the racquet lodged into it. Blood had splattered when it connected, covered her and somewhat himself. He understood now what was going on, at least somewhat. He gripped the handle again and yanked it out of his cousin's head, making a loud squelching noise. Bits of bone and brain laid stuck on the rim and some of the strings. He cringed in disgust and looked up at his mother.

Ryoma blinked away the tears slightly and stepped over the forms of Nanako and Nanjiro. He approached the wheezing undead and held the racquet up above his head. His mother extended her hand towards him slowly, sluggishly, eyes showing her hunger and insanity, even if they were dull. She collapsed with a thud, red racquet lodged in her head as well now. No sound escaped her and she twitched rapidly, jerking this way and that. He shook his head before lashing out with his foot, kicking her head to the side. A dull crack echoed around them and his mother slumped down completely, now fully dead. He yanked out the racquet without looking at her.

A sigh passed through his lips and he hiccupped slightly, tears reappearing once more as he turned towards the still form of his father. If that stupid movie he had watched with Momo-senpai last night before he came home taught him anything, then it would be that his father would become one of those things soon as well. He didn't want that to happen.

He lashed out with the racquet and slammed it into his dead father's face, hitting him repeatedly, pulverizing his skull. He glanced towards Nanako as he did so, and shook his head, stopping. He struck her several times instead, not wanting her to suddenly jump up and attack him. His shoulders shook heavily, breaths coming out of his lungs quickly and rapidly. The racquet fell from his fingers as a sob erupted from his chest. A meow sounded from behind him, and he turned to see Karupin rushing towards him. A dull smile painted his lips and he reached down to scoop up his cat, regardless if he was covered in blood or not.

___This shouldn't be happening! It can't be happening! What the hell caused all this!? What about the others!? _His breath continued to come rapidly as he clutched the shaking, yet comforting form to his chest, tears dripping from his chin. He didn't want to know what happened to the others, and yet he desperately wanted to know if they were alive or if they had become one of these... Things...

* * *

**A/N: **Well, that turned out better than I thought it would! I'll put translations below if you need to know what they mean! Tell me what you though, but no flames! Can't stand those... Ja ne!

Kaa-san= mother  
-san= A polite honorific directed towards those not known well and used with the words Kaa-san (mother) and Tou-san (father)  
-senpai= a polite honorific added when one is speaking to an upper-classman. Is pronounced and sometimes spelled "sempai"  
-sama= an honorific used when addressing a well respected superior, ruler, or when referring to a God.  
Kami= God


End file.
